Theme by nostrich.
They fought through the bristling cold
and hammered at the massive stones
to set foundation for my bones
and shoveled through the filthy mess
of soil, dirt, plus plenty stress
to make the clay that molds my flesh
Many hours of countless pain,
Back strains, migraines, brain all drained
putting blood into my veins
Countless hours passing by,
flying through the massive sky,
plucking precious pearls for eyes
and then I came to life,
a pretty little lad,
and in my hand a knife,
I stabbed them in the back
